


homecoming

by firewoodfigs



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Angst and Feels, Family Reunions, Gen, Guilt, Hand-wavy Alchemy, Hurt/Comfort, Introspection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-14
Updated: 2020-09-14
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:21:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26464069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firewoodfigs/pseuds/firewoodfigs
Summary: In which Truth turns out to not be a complete jerk, makes an exception to the law of equivalent exchange, and allows a certain alchemist to be reunited with more than one family member.(Or, in which Edward Elric gets to see his mother again. Briefly.)
Relationships: Alphonse Elric & Edward Elric, Edward Elric & Trisha Elric
Comments: 11
Kudos: 54





	homecoming

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by this [amazing work of art on Tumblr](https://firewoodfigs.tumblr.com/post/629072798288101377/roolph-im-so-proud-of-you-haha-ha-ha-ha) by @roolph. :) Also, listen to [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XPaA8ATKCuM) for the ~ additional feels ~ xD got me in tears while I was writing this, LOL.

“I have to say, Alchemist. I’m impressed. To think someone like you would’ve figured out the correct answer...” Truth murmured, looking about as surprised as a faceless entity could. 

“Save the pep talk, I’m not interested. Now, my brother’s body?” Ed bristled. The notion of staying within this space still perturbed him. He might’ve been a frequent visitor, but that didn’t make it any less disconcerting. Besides, he’d thought he was done here, considering the fact that he’d just severed his last remaining tie to alchemy. 

(In some ways, _that_ was disconcerting as well. It was a little bit like bidding farewell to an old friend. One whose presence he’d gotten a little too dependent on.)

“Yes, yes. You’ve got the deal in the bag. But first... how would you like to see your mother again?” 

“My... mother?” 

Ed’s first thought was that this was another one of Truth’s twisted jokes. Another temptation thrown before him to test his conviction. 

“The one you tried to transmute as a child, correct?” 

Ed remained silent. The knowledge of his transgression still stung raw, as did the remorse and regret. The guilt of flying too close to the sun; of causing his one and only brother to endure countless nights without sleep. Months without being able to cry. Without a basic human need; a catharsis. Years without anything on his palate, in his stomach. Nearly half a decade - or what must have felt like an eternity to him - without the warmth of a human touch. 

Ed just wanted to get his brother’s body back. And then get out. Get back to the real world where everyone was waiting. 

Where Winry was waiting. 

“Now, now. Don’t be presumptuous. I _will_ keep my end of the bargain. I’m simply throwing in a bonus, if you will. Giving you a chance to see your mother for a while before you return to the real world. Think of it as a prize for getting the correct answer.” 

Suspicion was dawning upon Ed with every word. It sounded a little too good to be true, no? 

And yet, his snarky self was speechless for once. He’d long thought that his mother was already in a realm beyond the reach of mere mortals. Ed wasn’t religious by any means, and he was often inclined to believe that heaven was nothing more than a fairytale concocted by the imaginations of the pure and innocent, but... 

He could see her again? 

“Cat got your tongue, Alchemist? I haven’t got all day,” Truth drawled. A little ironic, considering that he lived in a preternatural dimension where time and space were infinite. Neverending. 

Still at a loss for words, Ed swallowed thickly. His first instinct was to question Truth’s intentions. What business did it have being so… kind, anyway? Not to mention the offer didn't sound equivalent, either.

Which was another reason to be suspicious.

“I am not entirely heartless, Alchemist,” Truth scoffed, responding to his thoughts before it’d even left his mouth. Alright. So maybe the white, spooky being was a mind reader on top of being God. Did telepathy come with sovereignty? And what, was Truth a genie now, gunning for sainthood after sending him to hell and back? 

“Your mind sure is an interesting space to be in. I’m no genie, of course. But like I said, I’m not completely heartless,” Truth laughed, and snapped before Ed could even begin to form a retort. 

And suddenly Truth was gone. All around him was a ghastly expanse of nihility. Ivory untainted by the presence of a Gate that held the key to creation and destruction. A blank canvas of white. Pure, unadulterated white, like the first winter he’d experienced in Resembool as a toddler with his mother...

“Ed?” 

And oh, he’d recognise that voice anywhere, alright. It had been a long time since he heard it, but it was hard to forget when it resounded every night in his dreams. Both in the pleasant and horrid ones. 

“My, look at how tall you’ve grown,” came the voice once more. There was no hint of ridicule in it, only heartfelt sincerity. Ed remembered how she had always made it a point to mark every difference in his height as a growing child, no matter how inconsequential. (That still didn’t mean he could escape from having to drink his milk, though. Pity.)

But he’d drink all the milk in the world if he could relive those moments again. If he could be sure that this was real. Was it real, though? Was his mother... was she going to fade upon contact? 

“I’m right here, Ed,” she whispered, materialising in front of him in a strange, quasi-spiritual form. She was translucent, yes. But _very_ tangible. Or at least, her signature purple dress and brown side-ponytail were; just like how she had worn it before she’d passed. 

For the second time that day, the Fullmetal Alchemist was rendered speechless. 

Over the years following his mother’s passing, Ed had encountered death and experienced its associated grief in various forms. There was Nina. Nina, the innocent, playful ball of sunshine who deserved to feel the sun on her face and chase Alexander around all day. The girl who deserved an actual father, not a monster who couldn’t appreciate the value of family or the sanctity of human life. Then there was Hughes. The father who’d loved his daughter and wife a tad too much, to the point of it becoming a fatal flaw. But the man had been nothing but the epitome of compassion, of generosity. Even to a stranger like him. 

In both instances, Ed remembered being stricken with grief. And sorrow had mistranslated itself into anger. A bitter, biting anger that had stemmed from helplessness and self-reproach. Because for all his supposed genius, Ed couldn’t even bring a child back or figure out the truth in time. What good was it, being hailed as a prodigy if he couldn’t even do either of those things? 

Still, his mother’s death had been the worst amongst them all. It was the sort of despair that overrode one’s will to live; that shackled him to utter hopelessness and drove him to desperation. So desperate were they to see her again that they were willing to cross into a boundary kept strictly off-limits. For whatever reason, they couldn’t fathom. But they’d been more than willing - excited, even - to trespass God’s forbidden domain, if it meant they could bring her back to life. 

And now…

“Aren’t you going to say hello?” Trisha prodded gently, waiting with arms wide open. Inviting. Beckoning for an embrace that he’d never thought he’d get to experience ever again. 

Without missing a beat, Ed threw himself into her arms and wrapped his own around her. “Is it… is it really you?” he whispered, both stumped and awed. Bewildered. It still seemed too good to be true. 

“I’d recognise my own son anywhere, Ed. And I’d expect the shame of you. You have always been a bright child, after all,” she reassured, voice gentle and soothing. And her arms were warm, comforting. Like a fireplace after the onslaught of a fierce, wintry storm. 

Like home.

It really… it really was his mother. 

“M-mom,” he choked, throat strangled by an uncharacteristic display of emotion. 

In response, she simply carded her fingers through his messy mop of golden hair. (Ed wondered if it reminded her of her partner. His... father.) 

“Hello to you too, Ed.” 

They stayed like that for a long while. Ed didn’t know what to say. So he simply held her with all the strength he could muster, as if afraid she’d vanish into thin air if he released her. It was an outpouring of affection; a love that transcended life and death, but also guilt. Guilt that he’d made a horrible mistake after her demise. Guilt that he’d been a terrible brother. And above all, guilt that he’d failed her as a son. Alchemy was once something that invited praise from her, but how would she react knowing that he had, in his arrogance, committed the ultimate taboo? 

“You’re uncharacteristically quiet. What’s on your mind?” 

But of course, she’d always read him like an open book. Lies were futile around her. (Mothers have an uncanny way of understanding their own children, after all. Call it maternal instinct. Or a woman’s intuition, plain and simple.)

“I’m just… glad to see you again.” An understatement of the century. Ed was certainly glad. Euphoric, even. 

But guilt weighed on him still, like a ton of bricks. Because there was a part of him that had been afraid. Afraid of her disappointment, her disapproval; just like how he’d been afraid that Al would hate him for all that he had done. 

Logically, of course, he knew this was unlikely. His mother was the human incarnation of forgiveness, after all. She hadn’t borne a grudge against _him_ , not even after his untimely departure on that fateful day. Day and night she waited patiently for his return. Lovingly, tenderly. Not once had he heard his mother complain or lament the fact that he wasn’t around. 

Not even in her dying moments. 

“Me, too. But look at you. All bloody and battered. Have you been getting into fights again, Ed?” 

Releasing him from the embrace, she took a step back to examine him properly. 

Pride and mirth shone in her eyes. To Ed’s everlasting relief, there was no trace of the disappointment that he’d been so scared of witnessing. 

Ed chuckled, willing himself to not cry. “Maybe.” 

She only laughed in response. The corners of her eyes crinkled as laughter bubbled from her lips like champagne. And Ed’s chest bloomed with warmth. 

With hope. 

“I’d expect nothing less. You’ve always been the more… hot-headed one, after all. And I’m sure you’ve made mistakes along the way.” Ed gulped nervously, eyes glistening with regret. “But that’s alright. I forgive you. And I’m proud of you, Ed. You’ve grown into a fine young man, even without me around. I’m proud of you for staying so strong all this while... For Al. For me.” 

It started out with a choked sob. And then, something in him broke. The floodgates opened. Years of grief and guilt suppressed came out in steady streams, finding release and comfort in the anchor of his mother’s hold. The nights of sorrow, of loneliness painfully swallowed finally had an outlet. Nights where he had longed for the home that he had burnt to the ground. He had claimed it was a distraction, back then. But it really wasn’t. It was more of a barb in his side that reminded him of his sins, of his mistakes. Of all that Al and he had lost. 

Ed swiped at his face impatiently. He really, really didn’t want to crumble in front of his mother like this. Especially not when she’d just praised him for his strength. 

When that was done, Ed brought his arms around her again, resting his head against her clavicle. Warm, and strong. Not hollow, like it had been during her malady. Like it had been when the light slowly left her eyes. 

“Oh, Ed…” Trisha whispered, stroking a hand tenderly through his unkempt braid. (She used to do this to keep the nightmares at bay. Even when she had trouble sleeping herself. And the gesture had worked like a charm every single time, without fail. It was like his and Al’s personal dreamcatcher.) “I know it must’ve been so hard for you. And I’m sorry. I’m so sorry you had to grow up without me.”

“It’s not your fault, Mom.” A part of him wanted to say that it was all that jerk’s fault, but now he wasn’t too sure. “Al and I… we’re fine. We just missed you.” Ed managed a watery smile, even as his gut twisted uncomfortably. 

“I know. I missed you too, Ed. But we don’t have much time.” 

Ed’s grip around her tightened into a chokehold. 

“What do you mean?” he asked, panicked. 

“I have to go soon. But say hello to your brother for me, won’t you? And tell your father I’ll be waiting for him,” she said. 

“Please don’t go,” Ed pleaded. He didn’t want this to end. 

(But some part of him knew that this was greed. It was avaricious of him, no? Here he was, asking for more time when he’d already been granted an impossible reunion. A reunion that he’d tried so hard years ago, by his own foolish, mortal hands to recreate.) 

“Don’t worry, silly. We’ll see each other again,” Trisha smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes this time. The imminent separation aggrieved her as well, and it tumbled out from her lips in the form of nagging. The universal expression of a mother’s love. “But while I’m gone, make sure to drink your milk. Don’t be picky with your food, Ed. Grow strong and healthy. Don’t forget to get enough rest, even when you’re busy with researching and experimenting. Sleep is crucial for growth. And I hope you’ll grow up and have a happy family of your own one day, too. You deserve nothing less.” 

The knowing smirk on her face told Ed that she was half-expecting him to propose to Winry or something.

Ed laughed, tears streaming down in unstoppable rivulets. It was comfort and misery muddled together. Soon she’d be gone again, but at least he would have this precious snippet of undeserved time together incarcerated in his memory. 

“Got it, mom. And I’ll relay the same message to Al.” 

“That’s the spirit.” She pulled him in for another hug, but her arms were colder now. Thinner. Dissipating into the void around them. “I’m so proud of you, Ed. And I will always love you, no matter what.” 

_No matter what._

“I love you too,” Ed managed, through the sobs that were making breathing an increasingly difficult task. Under any other circumstance, Ed might have been embarrassed by this uncharacteristic display of emotion. But he didn’t care. This was his mother. Someone he never thought in a million years he would see ever again, much less hold. 

Ed clung on desperately, even as the outline of her youthful frame began to blend into the background. The weight in his arms lessened as her body faded, returning back to where it (rightfully) belonged. And Ed knew he couldn’t stay here forever. Al was waiting for him, along with everyone else. 

Still, parting was unbearably painful. Devastating. It was almost comparable to the anguish of losing another limb. Ed knew firsthand that replacements, nice as they were, weren’t quite the same as the original. 

And it was the same for all the people who had entered his life since her passing; some whom he might have even considered family. None of them were a viable substitute for her. 

Not even close. 

(She was special. Irreplaceable. Always was, and always would be.) 

“Don’t worry, Ed. Go. We’ll see each other someday, I’m sure,” said his mother, with absolute finality. 

And then Trisha Elric was gone. Again. Ed’s arms were no longer around her this time. He was left alone, arms wrapped around his own torso. 

Desperate to relive the moment, the scene replayed itself behind his eyes, which were clenched shut to contain the surge of emotions threatening to spill over once more. Her words echoed through his mind. Words that washed away the burden he’d carried. Words that were a salve to his aching heart. 

Words that gave him courage to look at Al. Straight in the eye. 

“I’m sorry you had to wait for so long, Al,” Ed heaved at last. 

“It’s alright, brother. I knew you would come,” said Al. Despite his emaciated state and his sunken cheekbones, his smile was completely genuine. Exultant. As if he had known, with unwavering certitude, that this would have happened all along. 

Even as his body withered away here for years. 

Ed grinned. He crossed the remaining distance between them in eager, excited strides and slung Al’s arm around his own shoulder, lending his own weight for support. (Ed made a mental note to give Al extra servings of milk. He’d made a promise that the both of them would grow up healthy and strong, after all.) 

“By the way, Al… Mom said hi.” 

“What?” 

“I saw her. For a few minutes, but I saw her. I think,” Ed explained, still struggling to wrap his head around everything. 

“Wha… How? How is… how is she?” Al stuttered, visibly stunned.

“She’s okay. She said she loved us, and told me the typical stuff she used to say. You know, eating well, getting enough sleep, all that.” Al smiled fondly at the memory. Terrorising as she could be, they would’ve given anything to sit through her seemingly endless lectures again. (And they did.) “I… I don’t think she blames us, you know.” 

Al knew. 

“I don’t either, brother. Thank you for coming.” 

There it was again, the same look of forgiveness. Al’s eyes, honest and honeyed, were completely devoid of blame.

It was almost enough to get the waterworks restarted.

But Ed decided that this was a cause for celebration. Besides, tears didn’t usually accompany victory, right? So he swallowed them back instead and flashed another sunny grin at his brother, before ushering him towards the end of the tunnel. Towards their new home, where everyone was waiting. 

“I just… I wish you could’ve seen Mom too, Al,” Ed admitted softly. How many times had he gotten the better deal, so to speak? And how many times had Al suffered in his place instead? 

“Me too. But it’s okay, brother. I’m sure I’ll see her someday,” Al replied, still with the same unwavering optimism. The same reassurance that he’d heard just not too long ago from an equally gentle soul. “It’s enough that _you_ saw her.” 

Ed nodded, not knowing what else to say. Her words rang in his mind once more, loud and true. Exhausted as he was, his heart brimmed with gratitude and relief. They’d done it. Al was back for good, now. Then there was the relief at the knowledge of his brother’s forgiveness. Of his mother’s forgiveness. 

Of her unconditional, undying love. 

_(No matter what.)_

**Author's Note:**

> I've been stuck in a bit of a writing slump and feeling a bit off recently. So I ended up writing this to deal with my jumbled mess of emotions, because writing is literally free therapy for me 😆 (Also because someone's gonna make a grand entrance in the next chapter of [memento amare](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24862408/chapters/60147661), so I thought I'd practice writing and characterising him a little 😆)
> 
> -
> 
> This is honestly a pretty raw piece of writing, and something I rushed out in a few hours to deal with my ~ feels ~, so I apologise in advance if there are any errors or unedited ramblings along the way. It's also my first time writing a non-Royai fic for FMA, so feedback and concrit are always welcome 😆 Please leave a comment if you have the time, I'd love to hear what you thought! I'm also on Tumblr as @firewoodfigs if you'd like to say hi :) 
> 
> In the meantime, I hope you're all well. Take care and stay safe out there, everyone! 💕


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